


One Too Many Late Nights

by freosan



Series: Reliant [3]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos is okay with it, Cecil is a good Dom, Consent Play, D/s, Lab Sex, M/M, Tentacles, but he's pretty creepy sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freosan/pseuds/freosan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos has this... fantasy. Cecil is more than happy to indulge him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Too Many Late Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Everything that happens in this fic is ultimately consensual, but it doesn't read like it at first. If you're disturbed or triggered by someone ignoring "no"s, may I suggest a re-read of Reliant instead?

Carlos is working late, again. Cecil can see the lights on in the laboratory from the street. He shakes his head at the sight. Carlos's car is the only one parked outside the lab; he's all alone in there.

That dedication is part and parcel of the wonder that is Carlos, but still, Cecil wishes that Carlos would remember that he has someone to come home to; that he doesn't need to rely on science to keep him company through the night. For someone who seeks so desperately for patterns, he never seems to appreciate them when he finds them.

Cecil has a key to the lab, so he lets himself in, moving quietly into Carlos's workspace. He always feels a little overwhelmed here; a little like an intruder. He imagines it's similar to when Carlos visits the radio station and his various monitors and sensors all start going off at once. Cecil doesn’t have any equipment with beeping warnings and flashing red lights, but he knows when he doesn't belong somewhere.

But Carlos is here, so Cecil is willing to put up with a bit of locational uncertainty.

Carlos is sitting at his laptop, typing, and he's wearing the headphones Cecil got him. They're big noise-cancelling things, with infinitely better sound quality than the earbuds they replaced, and the nice side effect of making it impossible for Carlos to hear anything outside of what they're piping in. Cecil has used that to his advantage before. Now he shrugs and manifests several tentacles, letting them phase through his shirt.

He twitches the curtains closed and shuts the door behind him before he makes his approach. It wouldn’t do to have anyone catch them at this. It would ruin all Cecil’s plans.

Carlos doesn't react to his presence until Cecil lays his tentacles across Carlos's shoulders. Then he jumps and looks around. Cecil gently takes the headphones off his head.

"Hello," he says quietly.  "Stop staring at that screen. It's past time to come home."

"Cecil, I'm working," Carlos says, turning back to his computer. His third eye blinks at Cecil calmly from under his ponytail.

Cecil puts his hand over the tattoo, and a tentacle over Carlos’s physical eyes. "I don't care."

Carlos tries to pull away from him, but Cecil holds him to his chair, tightening his grip around Carlos's head. With his hand, he tugs the elastic out of Carlos’s hair. He’s not gentle about it.

"Cecil!” Cecil thinks that may have been meant as a rebuke, but it comes out a gasp; Cecil timed his hard pull just right. Carlos’s hair spills in shining black waves over Cecil’s hands.

“We've talked about interrupting my work,” Carlos says. He’s sitting very still; too still. Like he expects Cecil will get bored and go away, like a bird of prey spotting a mouse. As if Cecil could ever get bored of Carlos.

"You're not working anymore," Cecil points out, reasonably, with his face buried in Carlos’s hair. "You said you'd stop work when my show started, so you can't still be working."

"I said that yesterday," Carlos tells him. Cecil pulls his head back over the edge of the chair and runs his hand down Carlos's chest. Carlos grabs for him, and Cecil manifests two more tentacles to hold his wrists down.

"Cecil!"

Cecil ignores the complaint and unbuttons the top button of Carlos's blue flannel shirt to nuzzle his neck. Carlos tries to twist away.

"What's the matter, Carlos?" Carlos is so nicely displayed for him, back arched, held down, that Cecil hardly thinks he can be blamed for wanting to touch. He unbuttons the shirt quickly, leaving Carlos's chest bare in the cool conditioned air.

"Stop it, Cecil." Carlos is trying to be firm, but his voice breaks when Cecil's fingers dip under his jeans.

Cecil smiles against Carlos's neck. "You don’t want me to."

"This is not the place," Carlos snaps. "Or the time. Let go."

"No," Cecil tells him, and leans down further to cup his hand around the growing bulge in Carlos's jeans. "Stop fighting me," he suggests. "You want this."

"I do not," Carlos says, but it's a gasp, and Cecil knows he's lying. He kisses Carlos's neck and listens to his breathing hitch as Cecil massages him. Carlos's beautiful hair flows down the back of the chair, and Cecil strokes it, and pulls it to make Carlos's pulse spike. With his lips pressed to Carlos's neck, Cecil can feel the blood pounding in his veins.

"I've been thinking about you all day," Cecil murmurs. "Thinking about what I'd do to you when I got home. And then you weren't there. Do you have any idea how disappointing that was?"

Carlos tries to shake his head, but Cecil can hold very tightly when he wants to. He barely moves at all.

"I had to come find you," Cecil continues. "I couldn't wait any longer. It's lucky I got you here alone." He pitches his voice just slightly lower, darker. "I wouldn’t have waited even if you weren't."

Carlos jerks his hips, grinding against Cecil's hand. Cecil smiles. "You are impossible to resist," he purrs.

Carlos starts to say something, but Cecil pushes down hard on his erection, and the words turn into a groan that is quickly cut off when Carlos bites his lip. That won't do. Cecil leans forward and kisses him, licking into his mouth, and rolls his palm. This time, when Carlos moans, Cecil can taste it.

Carlos struggles again, pulling at Cecil's grip on his wrists. Cecil lets his tentacles grow to wrap twice around his arms, and adds a few more to pin his legs wide open to the legs of the chair. He loves having Carlos like this. All of Carlos, entirely his to command. And enjoy.

He unbuttons and unzips Carlos's jeans without letting up on the kiss. Carlos may protest, but Cecil knows him, and knows his body. Carlos is hard and hot under his hand, and he whimpers into Cecil’s mouth when Cecil slides his fingers over the head of his erection.

“You’re beautiful like this, Carlos,” Cecil says. He moves away only far enough to speak; he can feel Carlos’s breath on his lips as he pants. “Will you come for me?”

Carlos licks his lips. “Cecil, stop,” he gasps.

“You’re still fighting me,” Cecil says. “Don’t. Don’t fight it, my beautiful, perfect Carlos. Give in. I’ve got you.” He whispers quiet praise and reassurance into Carlos’s ear, and works his hand slowly up and down, timing his kisses and strokes to Carlos’s whines, saving faster motions for when Carlos seems to get words together to protest.

It is not long, not long at all, before Carlos comes. Cecil strokes him through it, kissing him hard when he moans. He brings Carlos down, lets his heart rate settle, and releases the tentacle around Carlos’s eyes.

Carlos’s eyes are wide and pleading, his face flushed, his lips swollen from biting. Cecil runs his thumb over Carlos’s cheek as Carlos blinks away the hint of a tear.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Cecil promises. Carlos swallows hard and tries to pull away from the chair again.

“I have had dreams about taking you over this desk,” Cecil tells him, eyeing the cluttered lab bench. “Would you like to know one? You’ll like it. Let me show you.”

He relaxes the tentacles that have hold of Carlos’s wrists and shoulders, and grips a rough handful of Carlos’s hair to pull him up with. When Carlos is standing, Cecil comes around the chair and presses himself against Carlos’s back. He strips Carlos’s shirt off his shoulders and holds his arms tightly to his sides.

The bench only has scraps of paper and a coffee cup on it; Cecil decides that’s safe enough. He wouldn’t want to ruin any of Carlos’s work, or risk injuring him by putting him near chemical spills. He reaches out two tentacles and sweeps the papers off the desk, then closes the computer.

“Cecil! That was all my notes,” Carlos snaps. Cecil bites Carlos’s shoulder, not hard but enough to taste Carlos’s curiously salty blood.

“Your own fault for making me come here,” he says.

Carlos is easy to walk forward a step and bend over the desk; Cecil uses his hands to pull his jeans down around his knees, wanting to feel Carlos’s perfect skin with his more sensitive fingers. He gets distracted, running hands over the curve of Carlos’s ass, massaging the muscles of his upper thighs.

Carlos looks over his shoulder, warily, and Cecil smacks him. Carlos shudders, and Cecil does it again. It wouldn’t do to have a lack of symmetry.

Cecil draws his hand up Carlos’s back, tracing each bump of his spine, and pushes him down flat on the desk.

“I want to invade you,” Cecil says. He strokes Carlos’s hair with one hand, while his tentacles spread Carlos’s legs apart and wrap around his arms. “I want to make you scream so loud they hear you at Big Rico’s. Do you even know how irresistible you are?”

Carlos doesn’t answer, but he takes a breath and closes his eyes. Cecil traces the curve of his jaw, rough stubble and soft, tan skin over perfectly formed, strong bone. Carlos is so beautiful.

“Open your mouth,” Cecil says. Carlos doesn’t at first, but he doesn’t resist the tip of Cecil’s tentacle working past his lips and onto his tongue. Cecil sighs as Carlos’s warm, soft mouth closes around him.

Cautiously, he slides the tentacle deeper, bumping against the back of Carlos’s throat. Carlos moans and Cecil can feel it humming through his veins. He works the tentacle in and out until it and Carlos’s lips are slick with spit.

Cecil draws the tentacle back and down Carlos’s body, down until the tip of it is pressing at Carlos’s hole. He pushes in, slowly, without stopping. Carlos moans, first, and then grits his teeth. He’s so tight around Cecil. Cecil pulls out and fucks back into him, deeper, curling the tip of his tentacle back and forth inside.

“If I were fucking you with all of me, I would come right now,” Cecil whispers into Carlos’s ear. Carlos’s whole body shakes. Cecil grabs his hair and pulls his head up to give him a rough, sloppy kiss. He doesn’t have the willpower for finesse.

“You’re too perfect. I knew you would feel this way, so tight, so hot,” he says. He doesn’t feel very eloquent but Carlos doesn’t seem to mind. Cecil pulls Carlos’s legs wider, sinks deeper inside of him. Carlos bites his lower lip again, his face twisted.

“Shhh, Carlos, relax,” Cecil says. “You’re so good for me. Take a little more.” He presses a second tentacle between Carlos’s lips, forcing his mouth open so he won’t bite. He can’t bear to think of Carlos injuring himself.

He’s lucky he’s had practice perceiving many things at the same time. Being so deep inside Carlos, being all over him, feeling Carlos’s mouth and ass and hair and skin all at once, threatens to overwhelm him. His next thrust into Carlos is rough. Carlos can’t stop the moan coming out of his throat with Cecil in the way; Cecil dips deeper into his mouth, almost choking him, releasing only when Carlos’s eyes fly open in panic. Cecil pulls back and whips his tentacle down to slide into Carlos on the next thrust.

Carlos cries out when they both push inside him. Cecil circles the tip of one tentacle around, seeking and finding Carlos’s prostate, and Carlos’s back arches and all his muscles tense. Cecil does it again, keeping the stimulation going while he thrusts into Carlos with the second tentacle. Carlos screams. It is perfect.

Cecil stays bent over him, holding him down with all his limbs. Carlos is open to him now, no longer fighting at all, his eyes closed in pleasure, not denial. Cecil twists and turns and thrusts, keeping Carlos on the moaning, quivering edge - tentacles are so much better for this than any ordinary appendage - until he can’t wait any more. He switches to a steadier, faster pace, hitting at just the right angle, over and over, until Carlos comes with a sobbing cry.

Cecil slows, and stops, and draws out of Carlos gently, kissing his shoulder and petting his hair. He turns Carlos over on the desk to check him over.

Carlos looks at him, dazed. “Cecil…”

Cecil grabs him and pulls them both to the floor.

He shifts and manifests tentacles and manhandles Carlos around until they are lying facing each other, Carlos comfortably ensconced in a cocoon of Cecil’s tentacles, Cecil with one leg wrapped around Carlos’s. They stay there, breathing each other’s air, for several minutes.

“How do you feel?” Cecil asks, when he can speak without wavering again. Carlos smiles at him. Cecil’s heart melts, all remaining nerves banished by the honest pleasure in Carlos’s expression.

“That was amazing, Cecil. That was - you were perfect.”

Cecil lifts himself up on a spare tentacle. It’s a little difficult keeping this many of them manifested and useful at once, but it’s worth it, to see Carlos comfortable on the hard lab floor. He strokes a bit of Carlos’s hair back and it turns into a tender brush of fingertips over his face.

“I’m glad. I was so worried when you said to stop,” Cecil tells him. He’d been waiting for Carlos to use the safeword, or to really try to get away from him.

“Everything was perfect,” Carlos repeats. Then he winces. “Except I really am going to have to waste a day reorganizing those notes.”

Cecil feels his cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry. It seemed right in the moment.”

“Sure it did,” Carlos says, smiling.

“I’ll help you sort them out again,” Cecil promises.

“Tomorrow. You have to help me get home first.”

“It’ll be such a hardship to have to carry you back to your apartment.”

“You don’t have to do that, Cecil, I can walk.”

“No you don’t. You get your ravishment in the labs, I get to carry you around in public, that was the deal,” Cecil reminds him, grinning. “And if you’re sure you can walk I didn’t ravish you hard enough.”

Carlos smirks at him. “You’ll have to try again,” he says. Cecil could go into raptures about the wicked gleam in his eye when he puts his hand on Cecil’s chest and draws his fingers downward. “You could use some attention, I think.”

“When we get home,” Cecil says warmly. “You didn’t think I was done with you yet?”

Carlos shakes his head. “You’d better never be.”


End file.
